Bodies Are Weird

So, for reasons unknown, my right deltoid started hurting. I didn’t do anything to it, I didn’t do anything with it, it was just hanging around doing what deltoids do — and really, I wasn’t asking much of it. “Just keep my arm attached to my body, please,” is all I said. We didn’t go to the gym together, we didn’t go rock climbing, we weren’t swinging from vines; all I did was pour a cup of coffee.

Clearly, my extended warranty has expired.

I’m used to weird things happening with my body, but I can usually attribute these malfunctions to something having happened. This was not the case with my rebel deltoid unless it was my current thoughts around new activities. Recently I’ve been hankering to get back out into the world and do some post-pandemic-active-type stuff. I know, I know. We’re not post-pandemic yet, but we may never be, and I really want to do stuff. Was my deltoid panicking?

I’ve thought about getting back into jujitsu, but then I thought Wing Chun would be a very cool departure for me; then again, maybe I should just go skiing, or get back into running, yoga is pretty cool, or get back to lifting weights and build one of those hot-old-dude bodies, or maybe I do all of the things. Maybe my deltoid was getting excited?

I miss my morning workouts at Urban Athlete when we lived in Kensington.

Back to my deltoid and what this new malady is trying to tell me? “Use it or lose it,” barks my deltoid as I reach up into the cupboard to get a coffee cup.

“Settle down, Deltoid,” I say, scratching its ears. “Fine, I’ll take you to yoga today.”

Deltoid is looking at me with big, hopeful eyes.

“Yes,” I cave in, “and we’ll start going to the gym again.”

To which Deltoid’s tail starts wagging furiously as it runs in happy circles around my arm. Bodies are weird.